chapter7
At breakfast the following morning Clare realised that she didn't like other people talking about her grandfather. was a family matter and nobody else's business she was also worried that if it was such common knowledge, then sooner or later some newspaper or magazine was going to start looking for a story. And Clare didn't like the idea of someone else using her story. Clare walked into the police station and introduced herself. "Good morning. My name is Clare Newton. I've come about my grandfather, Edward Crowe. Good morning, Ms Newton. We were expecting you Would you like to come this way, pl The young receptionist, who spoke excellent English, led Clare into a modern office and introduced her to Herr Ziegler, who spoke less excellent English. but it was still better than her German. Herr Ziegler explained that the body had been recovered yesterday and had been taken away for a post mortem examination. She looked at him in surprise. Is that normal to do a post mortem when someone died so long ago? "Oh yes, quite normal We must follow the rules,' said Herr Ziegler "We must confirm that this is indeed your grandfather, Edward Crowe. He went on to say that if everything was in order, the paperwork could be completed quite quickly and that arrangements could be made for Clare and her grandfather to return to England, probably in about seven or eight days' time. In the meanwhile, Cla could take advantage of your little stay in Zermatt and enjoy the wonderful scenery And you must visit our Alpine Museum, Herr Ziegler continued. "There is much interesting information about climbing. Many photographs of old climbers who were killed on the mountains maybe one of your grandfather? Clare thanked him, and decided that the Alpine Museum sounded as good a place as any to start getting a bit of background, and a bit of a feel for the time period when Edward Crowe lived in Zermatt. The museum was very interesting. She read all about the first successful climb of the Matterhorn by an Englishman in 1865. She examined photos of enthusiastic looking young men from place like Britain, Italy and even the USA, who had died while climbing. Some of the photos had obviously been taken back in their own countries; others had been taken in Zermatt with the men dressed in their climbing clothes ready for action. looked closely at them and wondered how anyone had managed to climb in clothes that were more suitable for a Sunday afternoon in the garden. Grandfather Edward was not there, however. There was a photo of another Englishman, Gordon Younger, who had been killed in the same year, 1924, but no Edward Crowe. What a pity. She would have liked to see him hanging on the wall with all the other men whose lives had been shortened so suddenly. was another collection On one wall of the museum there of photographs, this time of the local guides who'd taken these early foreign climbers up their mountains. Some of them had also died young, but others had faces that looked incredibly old, dark-skinned and lined, the showing outdoor lives they'd led. One guide with the most wonderful moustache was apparently still alive. There was a brief notice under his photo that said he'd started guiding in 1922 at the age of eighteen and had been up the Matterhorn for the last time in 1990 Good God, thought Clare. "He must be tough He'd have been eighty-six when he went up then. That's incredible! Then she realised that he'd have been a guide during her grandfather's time. Maybe, even, had known Edward Crowe. She wrote down his name Ulrich Grunwalder She would like to talk to him, if he was still able to communicate.